


Doing a Hunter’s Job

by Usermore



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), M/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21980968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Usermore/pseuds/Usermore
Summary: Killua Zoldyck is an assassin, soon to lead his family as the heir, but a mission beyond his expertise comes calling.What could go wrong? A lone mountain village with mysterious disappearances and deaths doesn’t seem as hard to get to the bottom of — talking to the inn keeper’s assistant, though.. that’s a challenge, especially with the way he gives Killua a smile that could rival the sun’s brightness.
Relationships: Gon Freecs & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, Kurapika & Leorio Paladiknight, Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight
Comments: 14
Kudos: 28





	1. In comes Gon

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I have no beta, so pardon my errors. I do hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Please send some feedback! I’d greatly appreciate it. (: I hope I did my boys justice by trying to be IC as possible.

Snow started to fall on the cold hard ground one winter morning. At first, the small white flakes fell nice and slow before picking up and becoming a rather heavy drop of nature’s “fuck you”. Trees were bare, luscious leaves long gone, and green grass lay weathered and flat as if too tired to even stay upright any longer. 

It was expected though, but it was a delay for one young assassin who was on a mission, and a delay was the last thing he needed. He was to work quick and efficiently. 

His arms were wrapped around himself as he pushed his head low, his dark, heavy cloak was his only protection against nature’s wrath and the only thing to keep his scarf from flailing around wildly. 

Killua Zoldyck was not entertaining this weather at all. As a child, he would have taken a break and counted how many snow flakes fell on the palm of his hand, or kick at the snow and pretend he was making his own path into the unknown; anything to keep his mind off of his family, his life, his purpose in becoming a heir. 

With the exception of Alluka, he soon thought wistfully. His sister was the reason he did this. It pained him, being away from her, leaving her there, but he had told himself that once he gained his family’s trust (or as much to lower their guard), he will take her with him and run away, live normal lives, and watch her grow without fear what their family could do to her. 

Saving and planning, that was all he could do throughout the years in secrecy, to avoid the watchful eyes of his older brother Illumi who did not trust Killua, no matter how many years has it been that Killua had caused a scene over the fact that he was chosen to lead the family one day. 

Now, well, he was shy from his twentieth birthday (ahem, not really, July was further than he thought) and time had ran out, unless he had any luck to push just a bit more, just enough to find an escape with his sister. 

Lifting his head, his destination was in view. It was a small village from what he had researched prior to his departure. It was just as described: 

Small with old buildings one would see a century or two ago, an old mountain stone village in fact. 

There is definitely no electricity or running water here, Killua thought, his eyes flickering side to side to scan his surroundings as he approached. Luckily stealth was not as necessary on this mission, well, not yet at least. 

The wind wasn’t an issue as he made it to the entrance, but it was still beyond freezing. The stone buildings at least gave him enough shelter to pull on the scarf covering the lower half of his face. There was no one in sight at first, but the further he walked, he did manage to catch some curious eyes. 

Small children peered out their houses at him, and curtains seem to peek open by an inch or so; he could hear whispers, and soon he found himself standing opposite a tall man who had been making his way past the young assassin. The man paused, eyed him suspiciously, and said, “so, you’re who they contracted?” It was low enough that if Killua had inhaled, he wouldn’t have heard it at all. 

Killua blinked, his posture stiffen as he felt his fingers press against each other, claws starting to emerge under his cloak. He made no indication he was in full on defense, and the man didn’t seem to sense any danger, oblivious. 

“I suppose you are,” the man turned away from the young boy as he walked away, not before pausing, giving Killua a side glance. “You’re no good if you froze to death. Come on, follow me.” 

Noticing that Killua did not move an inch, he added, “I’m Leorio, the village doctor. My friend Kurapika was the one who called for you. We can’t talk here, let’s head to the inn where you’d be staying.” 

Surely there was no reason to not follow, right? The man had said more than enough to catch the young Zoldyck’s interest, and if it were a trap, hasn’t Killua dealt with these sort of things? It was his job after all, to be the very best.

He followed. 

The inn was just as one would expect after reading a storybook. All the furniture was not from their century, more like a century behind, with no telephone in sight. The room was lit up by the fireplace not far from the entrance, along with little candles hanging on mantles, giving the place a sort of peaceful but lonely look. 

Dust seemed absent, he observed in mild surprise. Any place older than at least twenty years was rather dusty to Killua, but this place seem to be ancient, from the antique couches, to the grandfather clock opposite the said couches, and to the carpet he was sure should have a wash or two. Was that blood..? 

A soft ‘ahem’ seemed to have snapped him of his observations — or lack of as he grew embarrassed that he was not as observant to notice the inn keeper at all. 

He was a young man, maybe a few years older than the young assassin, but not as tall. No, Killua was by no means short as he eyed the blond before him, raising an eyebrow, expecting the other to start speaking. 

It was the doctor, (Leorio, was it?) that started, “Kurapika, this is the assassin you had called for? He’s a bit... younger than I expected. Do you think he’s right for the job?”

Killua grew annoyed. What? What did his age have to do with his capability on doing his job right? He was hired to take out the threat, right? 

“You’re a Zoldyck, correct?” Kurapika did not look at Leorio, his gaze fixed on Killua. “From what I’ve heard, your entire family are feared, but most importantly, you can do the job right. Almost efficiently.” 

“Exactly efficient,” Killua began, lowering his hood, shaking his head to keep his snowy white hair from sticking to his face as the warmth of the room made him feel really warm and uncomfortable. He eyed the blond with a cold look, “if you don’t mind me asking, why did you hire me. The job description wasn’t exactly a description, per say.”

“Yet,” the inn keeper said, “you came either way. Your curiously brought you here.” 

The white haired man grunted, arms crossed as he stared between the inn keeper and the village doctor. From what he gathered so far, Leorio wasn’t really a threat, meaning if he tried anything, Killua was ready, but Kurapika on the other hand... hand this aura around him. Were there others in this inn? 

“Kurapika, you should start explaining why you hired him.” Leorio glanced toward the short man who finally removed his gaze from the assassin before him. He leaned against the counter, his eyes directed to the fireplace, watching the fire grow then fall as it consumed the wood it was given. 

With a soft sigh, the blond closed his eyes before speaking, “we have been losing people, disappearances, you could say. At first we thought it was because of the snow, well, partially, it is, but there’s more to it. Bodies appear weeks later, and from what we investigated, it’s not a wild animal — not one that inhabits this area from what we know.” 

“Wait,” Killua raised a hand to stop him, glaring hard at the other. “Is this a joke? I’m an assassin, I’m not a hunter. We aren’t the same. I aim for the corrupt politician, the notorious gang leader cops are too lazy to get; this is not my expertise, you’re honestly mistaken.” 

“The thing is,” Kurapika pretended the assassin didn’t interrupt, “we’ve called hunters, but none of them have ever made it back from their mission. I’m afraid I led them to their death, and I’m desperate for the truth.” 

When he reopened his eyes, Killua backed away, eyes wide. 

Kurapika’s eyes were red, but they seemed to be filled with emotion as Leorio placed a hand on the blond’s shoulder, telling him it wasn’t his fault. 

Killua would like to say that he turned and left, never looking back and not bothering to waste time on something that was beyond his comprehension, but he stayed, and as a thank you, he was allowed to stay in the inn as long as he needed without pay. 

He found himself staying awake all night, never one to sleep comfortably in a place he did not know, heck, he rarely ever slept in his own home due to how psychotic his own family was. 

The room he was staying in was nothing special. It was a small bedroom, by far smaller than any room back at the Zoldyck estate. The only furniture was a single bed, a small bedside table, and an old fashion wardrobe he was sure was older than his own grandfather. 

Beyond the room, the window sparked his interest. It showed the front of the inn, and to him, it would be easier to monitor what was going on below. 

Killua watched as it started to get light outside, as he was sure there was no sun. The clouds were definitely stubborn, refusing to part to let anyone see what the sun had to offer with its warmth this cold winter morning. In fact, Killua observed as he pressed his hands on the window, watching the street below him, it seemed that only a few villagers were up and about, so this town wasn’t exactly a ghost town as he suspected earlier. The fact that there were children laughing and even playing below relaxed him a little. 

A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts. With ease, he stride toward the door and swung it open. 

He had expected to see Kurapika on the other side, even Leorio, but instead he was greeted by a big smile and honey-like eyes, and hair as dark as the night with a tinge of green? 

Killua blinked. 

The person spoke, and the assassin noticed that they seemed to bounce on the ball of their feet as they spoke. “Hey, sorry to bother you, but Kurapika wanted me to tell you that he had to run out with Leorio to settle some issue, but to tell you that breakfast was ready. He left me to finish up the roast, but I think I burned it.” And that person was soon into focus as a boy. 

Again, Killua blinked, staring without saying a word. 

The boy before him only smiled, “I’m Gon! Uh, my aunt would probably kill me for my lack of manners, huh? I’m sorry, often I tend to ramble on what I have to say or else I forget.” Clasping his hands behind his back, the boy smiled sheepishly up at Killua. 

“Uh, thanks,” the assassin finally replied, “I’ll be down in a bit.” 

He started to close the door before Gon cried, “wait!” 

Killua paused, eyeing him in confusion. 

The raven haired boy grew red, realizing his outburst was a bit too forward. “What’s your name?” He finally asked. 

For the third time that morning, Killua blinked. He stared at the boy before him, and before Gon would retract his question and make an awkward excuse to go back to tend to breakfast, Killua replied, “Killua, my name is Killua.” 

Breakfast was rather uneventful, or as uneventful as you could call not running into danger and risking your life; yeah, his host was rather talkative, and the white haired boy was in awe that he didn’t lose his hearing. 

Gon just talked a lot. 

From what information he got, Gon lived a few houses down with his aunt and his grandmother. His father had left them when Gon was a baby and he never knew his mother. 

“But Aunt Mito is my mom and I wouldn’t change it for the world!” He had exclaimed. 

The conversation soon shifted to Gon helping Kurapika run his inn, especially when the blond barely got any customers. 

Most likely due to the chaotic shit that’s been going on, Killua thought but didn’t voice this aloud. 

“Ne, Killua, you haven’t touched your food.” 

Killua glanced down at his uneaten breakfast. He had forgotten to pretend. He still did not trust these people, and even if he could survive any poisoning, he was not in the food to entertain anyone when he.. well, had to expel said toxins. 

“I’m not hungry,” he replied curtly, his eyes watching as Gon’s face fell. He was sure the boy cooked part of this meal from his reaction. “But I thank you, Gon. You’re a good host.” It was a genuine statement. 

Gon thought so too as he beamed over at the young assassin, his eyes grew shades lighter and Killua held his breath. 

He never knew the sun had decided to rise inside this inn. 

Baka! 

Did he just say this? Where did this come from? He just met this stranger, this stranger in under an hour and he just compared him to the sun? Oh, boy. 

This mission is not going to go smoothly, is it?


	2. Inn or Out?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re supposed to come in and out, not think of anything else that isn’t a mission, Killua!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos. :D you have no idea how flattered I am.

To say the least, this job was not at all what Killua had expected to find himself in. For one, Kurapika would tag along, and the young assassin had a hunch that this was due to the guilt of leading past hunters to their deaths. 

Killua worked alone, but Kurapika was having none of that; not that he was a drag. The blond could hold up his own, and would assist in investigating, even finding further clues than Killua — then again, the Zoldyck heir was not a detective. His job was to acquire his target and eliminate, not go on a wild goose chase outside the village’s outskirts, freezing his ass off as they looked around. 

Another villager went missing, this time a young girl of only ten years of age. 

An adult were more capable of having a chance to fight, but a child who was raised to have a childhood, to stay young while life permitted it, her only stress being if the weather was good enough to play outside, no family responsibilities, no fear of being chained and beat— don’t think of yourself, you selfish bastard, he scolded himself, shaking away his thoughts. 

He had no room to think of his upbringing when a child was missing, probably dead by now. 

Villagers were out, having their search party, and Killua could see Gon from a distance with a pretty woman with auburn hair, but there was no mistaking the eyes; his aunt, he assumed. 

Gon held no smile, his lips quiver in the cold, his honey-eyes less bright from the last time Killua saw them. A part of him hated that. 

Yeah, he would call Gon annoying, a talkative shadow by the way the shorter man would follow Killua around and talk his ear off, but he gave the snowy haired man a strong reminder of Alluka. 

Killua wondered if she was doing okay. 

He realized he was staring and quickly looked away. 

It felt like hours later when the girl was found, and relief washed over the villagers. She was alive, but cold and scared. 

So she wasn’t a target of whatever hunted the village. 

“It was an honest mistake. She was curious after spotting a rabbit and went after it to see it up close, instead she had gotten herself lost. Thank Gods,” The inn keeper sighed, collapsing onto one of the old couches by the fireplace an hour later. He had his arm covering his eyes. 

Leorio leaned against the armrest as he nodded, relieved himself. He turned to Killua. “Say, Killua, did you and Kurapika have any leads?” 

The blond lowered his arm from his eyes, staring up at Leorio who stared back, awaiting for a response. 

It was Killua who responded, seating himself on the other couch, arms crossed, “we found blood, and speaking of blood, you never did answer me on that spot on your rug. There is no way that was coffee stains,” he added as Kurapika sat up straight as if shocked. 

Both he and Leorio stiffened, but it did not go unnoticed by the assassin who pressed on, “look, if I’m going to help you and your village, you have to be honest with me, or I can’t trust you. I don’t trust you as it is, and I have a hunch that this blood has something to do with the job you contracted me for.” 

“Someone died here,” Kurapika whispered before standing. He went over to the fireplace, refusing to look at Killua and Leorio. 

Both men stared at the shorter man’s back as the blond continued on, “it was a Hunter. He had managed to escape alive, but barely. Leorio found him and we tried to save him. He just lost so much blood, and I just realized that I caused this.” Kurapika’s fist clenched before raising it and slamming it above the fireplace. Leorio stood to comfort his friend but the other shook his head. 

Killua couldn’t see his eyes, but he was sure his red eyes were back. Only one clan had those eyes, but that was a topic for another time. Right now what mattered was that he finish this mission and head back home to Alluka. He listened patiently. 

“He bled to death, and we couldn’t find out who had done this. Nothing. I knew hunters were skilled and the point is to risk their lives, but to die brutally and painfully was enough to make me realize that whoever or whatever is tormenting this mountain does not want anyone to find its’ secret.” 

Killua turned all night after that conversation. It replayed over and over; hunters dying, the village in some kind of danger. There were some holes in the story, but he had to take a step back and not give the inn keeper any indication that he was suspicious. 

Was it the whole mountain or just the village? Has this been happening for months or even years? How were the bodies found, and in what condition? What did the villagers truly feel? Was this a whole set up? Was Killua the new target? Should he ditch the job and not look back? 

An image of Gon appeared in his mind. 

Gon. What did Gon know about all of this? Surely he knew something? Has Leorio and Kurapika kept him in the dark, or was he behind the scenes as well, keeping an eye on Killua? 

The man frowned at the thought. No, he doubts that’s the case with the inn keeper assistant unless he was a terrific actor. He did look the part, he continued to muse over the other; he could be in magazines, seen on ads while one would scroll through their phone — wait a minute. 

Killua sat up, eyes wide in realization. He immediately got out of bed, immediately digging through the small bag he had brought with him. He carelessly ruffled through it before he found what he was looking for. 

Phone clutched in his shaky hand, Killua turned the power on. It took a couple of seconds for it to fully turn on before he immediately started to check if there were any signal. 

Nothing. 

He cursed quietly, eyes trained on the phone screen before him. Tossing it aside, he quickly started to feel around the bedroom; he had to be positive. Killua crawled on his knees, his hand feeling at every surface he could reach, for something, ANYTHING that could prove him right. 

It would be suspicious if he put a hole through the wall, and he soon grew disappointed. So this village really had no such thing as electricity, no running water, nothing? 

He wasn’t being watched, at least not by any technology, he wasn’t trapped in a web of lies over the no electricity and running water story. 

He can’t help it but not trust these people. He knew he should up and go, but something is telling him to stay, to satisfy that itch of curiosity. 

Gon’s face appeared in his thoughts, and Killua shook his head. 

“Okay, Killua, this is the dozenth time you’ve been thinking about him,” he told himself aloud, bemused at his imagination. “You either suspect him, or you just find him endearing. Or just both.” 

Getting to sleep was another struggle, that was for sure. The last images he saw before sleep overtook him was Gon and that smile. He wondered if... darkness would fall upon them if the sun’s smile disappeared along with him... 

“Ne, Killua, you look like you haven’t slept,” Gon had asked the next day as he and Killua made their way back to the inn. Gon had been sent to an errand, and Killua went with him, claiming he was curious about the village and wanted to do something that didn’t involve being cooped up in that stingy inn with Kurapika and Leorio all day. 

It was half true. He wanted to watch Gon, to find out what he knew, but what he mostly found out was that Gon’s favorite color was green, and his hair would never lie flat, much to Gon’s annoyance. Apparently, despite being older than Killua by months, the shorter boy would still act like a child. Running was rather fun than walking to him, as he claims he kept warmer that way. He would hop around with the balls of his feet, tug at Killua’s arm and drag him to whatever it was that he had found interest in. 

The assassin won’t lie, spending time with the inn keeper’s assistant wasn’t so bad. He realized he enjoyed someone else do the talking while he could just listen and wonder. For once, he did not compare Gon to his sister. They were different, way different. 

“Look, Killua!” The assassin snapped out of his thoughts as he turned to look at what Gon had been pointing at. He followed the direction of his gloved finger and set his eyes on.. oh. 

Before there lay a sight that Killua had disregarded as... ugly. It was a small area filled with mounds of snow, snow balls bigger than their heads, snowballs with decorations, with their own scarfs, and even mittens. 

“You want to build a snowman?” Killua deadpanned, flickering his eyes to watch Gon’s reaction. The other nodded, tugging the assassin along. “Come on, we can make our own snowman! It’s been tradition we at least make one!” 

There was no room for arguments it seems like it as he joined Gon. After an hour, they both stood up to admire their work. Killua had made the bottom half; it was exactly a perfect ball, while Gon... well, let’s just say it was a mound. That was nice enough to put it. 

Their snowman was deformed, there was no denying it. The eyes (also Gon’s job) were lopsided and not near dead center. The mouth on the other hand was fine, as it was Killua’s part of the job. 

They both stood back to admire the snowman from afar. It didn’t look that bad, at least, it was good as it could get. Killua mused on how it would look better with a hat of some sort when he jumped when a warm hand wrapped around his own. Eyes wide as of shocked by static, he tuned to look at Gon. 

The other boy took no notice, staring ahead at their work of art, a small smile playing on his lips. 

Honey-gold met cerulean and they stayed like that for a good while. 

I’ve only met him for a week, Killua found himself thinking, refusing to look away from those hypnotic eyes before him. Every time I do manage to see him, or be around him, my senses stop working. I think of nothing else. What are you doing to me, Gon Freecss? I barely know you. 

He did not take notice when he felt his head inch closer, nor when Gon did as well. He did not notice anything at all, from his surroundings, to his mission, to his goal to finish and get out of this freezing wasteland. He did not care to think that this could be a trap, that Gon could be tricking him, that Gon could be leading him to certain death; a siren. 

Killua stopped caring. He didn’t care about death, he didn’t care about being trapped anymore, all he cared about was the person who made him feel this kind of way. 

Never in his life had he shone any sort of interest in anyone else. Not once did he realize that he could lie back and count Gon’s freckles, hold him close and never let this stranger go. 

It didn’t happen, as he felt his eyes close, lips just inches away from their destination, a shout took them back to reality. 

Letting their hands fall, no longer clasped together, both men turned to the source of which the shout came from. From what Killua could see, the villagers were in a panic. People started screaming. 

Something was wrong. 

Gon had ran up ahead, his eyes set on where the source came from. He did not turn back, and so Killua followed. He tried to get through the running crowd, missing sight of the man with the green tilt in his hair. 

“Gon!” He found himself shouting, pushing past people. “Gon!” 

There, ahead of them, Killua could see what was happening. A lone figure stood amidst the chaotic event going on around it. It’s back was turned to Killua, and before it (Killua’s heart felt like it had been shattered right there and now) was Gon, crouching beside a bleeding man, facing the figure with a death glare. 

“Gon,” Killua said, and the figure pounced.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Kilugon day! :D Decided to update my favorite story I’ve ever written in celebration.

Killua felt like time had slowed before him. Before him the figure leaped forward, and not even his Godspeed could get there in time. What Killua did not expect was for Gon to hold his ground, moving out of the way, only to land a solid kick to the figure’s head. 

A sickening crack was heard. 

With the limited extra time given to him, Killua jumped right above, claws drawn together to slice through, but the person in cloak moved out of the way. The pearly white haired man landed hard on the snow, a gust of dangerous aura starting to spread, enveloping Gon and the unconscious man that the shorter man had been protecting. 

“Gon, get the injured man and take him to the doctor. Go!” Killua did not remove his eyes from the cloaked person who started to remove his hood. Once it fell, Killua almost lost his footing. 

“Hisoka!” 

A crooked smiled formed upon the new person. His cold amber eyes were fixed on Gon, who looked both confused and defensive as he crouched down next to the villager. The man was pale, even more so than Killua, with fiery red hair, and a star and teardrop on both the sides of his face. All Gon knew was no matter how interesting this guy looked, he was dangerous and could kill all three of them in a second. 

“My, you sure hit me well,” the man called Hisoka replied, his eyes never leaving Gon as his left hand lifted, feeling around his bruised chin. His smile didn’t waver. “You’re a cute one, oh, I can’t wait to see your full potential~” He finished with a purr. 

White, hot anger surged through Killua. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He asked harshly, stepping to hide Gon from Hisoka’s sight. 

Hisoka merely chucked, his eyes now focused on Killua. He regarded him up and down before raising a brow. “Illumi isn’t so happy with you. Your mission was to last a day, you took about a week off. I don’t blame you,” he added, trying to see Gon. “He’s a cute one~” 

Killua saw red, but refrained himself from attacking and ripping that asshole’s throat out. “Were you... were you watching us?” He was beyond pissed, and the smile that spread across Hisoka’s face confirmed it. 

“Gon!” It was Leorio and Kurapika who ran their way. Both men were in a frantic as if they had ran a marathon; despite the delay due to the snow covering up to their ankles, they made it quickly to the shorter man and Killua. 

Killua did not remove his eyes from the man in front of them, daring him to inch closer. His claws were out and ready to slide through skin if he had to. There was no way he’d allow this man to hurt these people. They weren’t targets, and one thing Killua was taught by his grandfather Zeno Zoldycks was that you shouldn’t kill anyone who wasn’t a target, in his case, anyone innocent. 

“I see I’m outnumbered, not that it’s a hard feat to take on a couple of mere.. non-talented humans, but I would feel bad if I have more blood on my hands.” He held out a hand, a card between his index and middle finger. Bowing, his eyes were once again locked on a glaring Gon. “I’d love to meet you again, obviously in different circumstances. I’ll send Illumi the news that you’re alive and wasting time.” He then announced before walking away. 

He should have gone, Killua was itching to run after the clown and bash his skull in with his foot. Just seeing him eye Gon disturbed him to no end. He hated it. 

Most importantly, there had to be a reason on why Hisoka was here, and it’s not very common of Illumi to send anyone else besides himself. If Hisoka was here, then Illumi wasn’t very far. No way would he trust the red haired man to spy on his brother, and no way would Illumi disrupt Killua’s missions since he was the age of fourteen. 

He’s been gone longer on missions, and there was no problem with that. He didn’t know what, but maybe this village had more to offer if it caught the attention of two Zoldycks and a disturbing fuck named Hisoka. 

It’s been hours after that event occurred. Luckily the villager was alive, but still out. Killua and Gon sat on the Inn’s couches, both staring at the fireplace. Flames licked at the wood Gon would occasionally get up to feed to it, keeping the place lit and warm. The men didn’t speak for awhile, but it wasn’t quiet. Leorio was upstairs walking around as he tended to the injured while Kurapika went up and down the stairs to the second floor to help the doctor. 

“So,” Gon finally spoke, startling Killua who immediately turned his gaze at the dark-haired man. “That guy, you know him. Is he another... assassin?” 

With a snort, surprising himself, the assassin replied, “no, he’s more like... my brother’s.. I don’t know what they are, nor do I want to. All I can say is that there’s something going on if it caught our attention to your town.” 

Gon stared, puzzled. 

The taller man sighed, “like, the missing, some deaths, and the fact that most of you act like you’re hiding a secret. From what I can put together, it’s a beast with ancient powers, or a cult; both if we’re unlucky.” 

Silence fell between them. Gon turned back towards the fireplace, and Killua dared himself not to look away. He could see the flames reflect from the other boy’s eyes, making them dance with a golden tint. Just the sight made Killua grip his armrest, tearing at fabric. 

Shit! 

He positioned himself to lay his back onto the armrest. He could care less about the couch, but he didn’t want to explain to the other on why it happened. Casually, the cerulean eyed boy gazed at the fire himself. 

“You have pretty eyes, Killua.” 

Spluttering, the assassin almost fell off the entire couch. “Stupid! Stop saying embarrassing stuff!” 

“But it’s true.” A small smile started to form from the spiky-haired man, his eyes were filled with amusement. “They’re like the ocean from the picture books my aunt Mito would read to me. I would like to see the ocean one day.” His smile stared to fade. 

“Then why don’t you?” 

“Well, I never was able to leave this town. None of us are allowed. Lots of people come in, though, but after awhile they disappear, but I never heard from them again. My dad Ging disappeared too, but he never did come back after my third birthday. Since then, I never received anything.” 

Silence again. 

“Is it the law?” Killua pressed after a few seconds of silence between both men, “or you don’t want to leave, Gon? Leave everything behind?” 

Honey-brown eyes met cerulean and Killua was taken aback when he saw tears. “I never saw the sun, Killua. It’s always snowing, and I never get to see anything that isn’t white or dark in color. It’s been like this since the day I was born. I heard, I heard from my aunt that I was born with skin that was kissed by the sun itself, but, I never seen it. It’s always been snow and cold, sometimes hunger.” 

With a shaky hand, the man started to pick up the poker, moving it around to keep the fire ablaze. “Ever since Kurapika and Leorio arrived, I never felt hunger, we never had to eat spoiled food, or satisfy our thirst with snow. We get food delivered, but the next shipment could be late and it gets worse for us when it does.” 

That was it, thought Killua as he laid a hand on the other’s shoulder. That was the secret, wasn’t it? This mission wasn’t just to target the culprit responsible, but to find a way to bring the sun back to this village. It was as if these people lived in a snow dome all their lives, and Kurapika tried to fix this mess. It wasn’t one problem, it was bigger than Killua would have expected. 

What he didn’t notice, though, was when Gon leaned in. Again, the man’s heart started beating. Gon thought he wanted to kiss him? He did! Just.. it wasn’t the time for that. 

Disappointed in even himself, he pulled away, standing, avoiding Gon’s slight hurt expression.

“I need to talk to Kurapika.”


	4. Chapter 4

“You lied!” Killua hissed as he paced around. Both he and Kurapika were in Killua’s bedroom as Killua pretty much dragged him there to the protest of Leorio, who could only watch helplessly while tending to the injured man in his care.

There was no pause in this mission, even passing by Gon who stood by the hallway, carrying towels to take to Leorio, a frown on his features.

The room was in such disarray, as Killua had taken the liberty to throw things around in his anger. He had never lost his cool like this before, and this innkeeper was ready to lose his head if he dared to upset the assassin any more than he was right now.

“You lied,” the man repeated, jabbing a large nail at the innkeeper who looked on nervously, backing up against a wall. “There is no escape, and there is more to this town that I was told. You better be paying double by the end of this. There is no way this is cheap, and there is no way that I can do this in a couple of days now that I had gotten the clear fucking picture.”

“Look,” the blond man replied, still staring at the other’s clawed hand. He gulped before continuing, “I know I did not say much, but you must understand I had no one else to turn to. Whenever someone from the outside would come and help, it would always be a lost cause, and you are an assassin, and you’re much more skilled than a hunter when it comes to getting the job done, that’s all.”

Killua merely glared as he stopped pacing. He retreated his clawed hand and crossed his arms, daring the other to go on.

Kurapika sighed, “We are at a lost, Killua. Gon’s father along with many of the village’s greatest hunters had disappeared. Unlike the outsiders, there are no bodies found, and we only indicate that there is a hidden chamber, a cave, anything. Something is going on, and I have been stupid enough to bring more unfortunate souls to this place to meet a gruesome death. I’ve been selfish, I know. However, we are at a lost, and we do need the help.”

“You’re being vague.” The white haired man started to stare at the door, before back at Kurapika who followed his gaze. “Spit the rest of it out, Kurapika, I’m not in the mood for more of this shit.”

“I’ve said what I know,” the blond stressed, looking rather uncomfortable when Killua sent daggers his way. 

“I’m a target,” Killua gritted out. 

“Yes, and no,” the other man admitted, rubbing at his arms, “this time I did find a clue. Before, we assumed everyone disappeared out of thin air, and the bodies of the outsiders just appeared out no where too. That was, until one day I went with Leorio to retrieve one of the dead; it was there that I’ve noticed the drag marks on the snow with fresh blood. 

It seems,” he continues, “that they’re are hidden tunnels under the ground, we are just unable to see anything due to the constant snow. Because no one has fell into one if these tunnels, I suspect that they are man made.” 

“Fine,” Killua snapped, sighing and running one hand through his messy white hair. “I’ll go, and get rid of whatever the fuck is causing issue, break the stupid curse, and go home with a hefty amount of money.” 

Maybe ask Gon out, his mind dares wander. 

Kurapika nodded and Killua walked past him into the hall. He was met again with Gon who had just came out of the room where Leorio was with the injured man. 

Gon gave him a nervous smile, and Killua suddenly felt his cheeks go aflame, remember their almost kiss downstairs. He wanted to kick himself, and even wanted to ask Gon here and there if he could kiss him, that he was sorry. Instead the taller of the two stared openly and started comparing the dark-haired boy’s to the walls of the inn — they were both calming colors, and they held some kind of warmth. 

While the inn had creaking wooden floors that would annoy Killua (as he had to put more work on silencing his footsteps and keeping them light), it had a warm feeling to it, like a small home one would run to after playing in the snow to crowd over the fireplace as a mother would make hot chocolate and cookies. 

Killua opened his mouth but was interrupted when the bell downstairs chimed. 

Kurapika quickly walked past the two and went down the stairs to greet the customer. 

It seemed the magic has been lifted because Gon had made an excuse and left to get new blankets again. 

The white-haired man only watched him go, his heart strings being tugged painfully before he shook his head and started down the stairs himself. 

He froze. 

“Hello, Killu,” said a smooth voice as the appearance of Illumi Zoldyck came into view. 

“Illumi.”

“It seems that we are here to work together,” the elder Zoldyck replied smoothly, his cold calculating eyes shifting to Gon who had just came down, and the tall man’s expression became void. “Ah, and it seems you have found my target as well. Hisoka was not mistaken after all.”

It was lighting struck. 

Just as the eldest was about to strike, Killua jumped in, arms held in front of him. 

Snap. 

A surge of pain enveloped the white haired man, but he did not cease his defense stance before throwing a swift kick, catching his brother’s shoulder. 

It did not have as much as an affect, but Killua changed his defense into an offense, his hands in claws as he tried to strike. 

As many times as they’ve spared, Killua lost his fear. Illumi was human, and he had weakness. It took the younger Zoldyck years until his late teens to lose his fear, to fight when his body froze — it was the day his family finally acknowledged him as the true heir. 

Fighting Illumi now was like back when Killua realized that he wasn’t afraid anymore. Cold icy eyes did not leave his brother; he knew if his brother found an opening, he’d slip and get to Gon. 

Gon. 

A new wave of rage filled the white haired man as he attacked, dodged, and pushed forward in order to take the fight elsewhere. 

Why did this stranger matter? 

He did not know, but everything in his being is telling him to protect, to kill, to DIE just to protect this complete stranger. 

With an angry yell, he smashed into the wall, taking his brother with him, tossing them outside into the snow. 

He did not notice a figure watching from a lone window from the inn watching below, however, or the fact that Leorio was knocked unconscious in the same room, or the fact that the man from earlier lay dead, blood oozing through the wooden floor.


End file.
